Amongst Foundations
by Helenaxrobot
Summary: Ceely's an engineer, not a fighter. But she won't be just another body amongst foundations for RED and BLU. Pre-MVM, Non-Canon, divergent story line. Slow-burn romance.
1. Chapter 1

Amongst Foundations

Disclaimer: I don't own tf2.

Chapter 1

The train was twelve minutes late arriving into the station on the waves of Thursday afternoon sun. _Human error_, Ceely thought with a hint of disdain, _the only type of error when it comes to machines. Only in good machines, of course._ She hoped that she'd be seeing much more of good machines in the future, now that she was hired for Reliable Excavation Demolition. Of course, Builders League United was more industrial in a sense, but she supposed for that reason that they didn't require more engineers like RED did. Getting the job had been a magnificent stroke of luck, really.

She lifted her middle-sized suitcase easily onto the train and stowed it in the luggage compartment, making her way down the aisle to the seat on her ticket. The seat next to her became the resting place for her backpack. After pulling the curtain closed and plugging her ears against the clamor of the other passengers, she closed her eyes and allowed herself to relax.

_You've come a far way from the slums, kiddo. And this journey's gonna be longer yet._

* * *

><p>She couldn't help but think of her father at a time like this. He was probably in their apartment right now, tinkering with their radio or smoking from his pipe, now that she wasn't there to stop that habit. God, she hated the smell of smoke. It was a little better when it was tobacco, but smoke from machines smelled to her of failure and mistakes, of human error, of doing things wrong and breaking instead of fixing.<p>

And maybe her mother was watching her from heaven right now. Maybe she was wondering why her daughter had been raised like a son, why her daughter was now going to build machines like she had always wanted to. But her mother could go to her father for those answers.

She didn't remember much of her mother. She knew that she had inherited her mother's large doe eyes and round face, and she had her mother's fine black hair. But she kept it short in a hand-hacked diagonal, instead of in an immaculate braid. She remembered her mother's voice the most, high and bright while she cooked dinner, and a dry croak as she lay on the hospital bed, as cancer devoured her lungs and left useless the operations of such a finely designed body.

Ceely had decided then, at the age of seven, that she could not be a doctor. Death reeked of failure in that profession, and she did not want to let her abilities and success hinge on the performance of the imperfect human composition. And her father, who had always wanted a son in the Chinese tradition, gladly helped her along the road to becoming a mechanic like himself. She cut off her pigtails the day after her mother died, topped on a baseball cap she found in the alley, and followed her dad into the garage wearing her very first pair of overalls, donated by a generous neighbor and a size too big. The workshop became her domain, and her hands felt naked without grease and metal shavings. Armed with a wrench and screwdrivers, she invoked mechanical messiahs and immersed herself in steel and aluminum, hinges and rivets holding her existence together. The neighborhood boys that picked on her in the beginning came to her with bikes and scooters later, and she fixed their cars in return for them teaching her how to scrap with the streets.

But politics would never leave science alone. In three short years, the glory of Australium was unleashed upon the world, and, to put it simply, the technology became too good. No longer did car parts shear or warp as easily, and there was no longer a steady stream of customers for her father and her to make happy by fixing their machines. Ceely's dinners became more and more white rice with less and less meat and vegetables. Her father always saved up money for her to get milk from the milkman, but her height stalled when she hit sixteen, an inch shy of five foot and a half.

During high school, when such things mattered, she could never afford the bell bottoms or tube tops, and used the same backpack for all four years, patching it and fixing the zippers herself. But she got the best grades just fine in her secondhand jeans and threadbare collared shirts from the landlord upstairs. And it was easier to live with the knowledge that another grease stain on her pants, or another blood spatter from breaking noses in street brawls, would be barely noticeable. She never bothered with the time to style her hair, and eventually her round face grew into the diagonal cropped layers, usually pinned back or pushed away with gloved hands or goggles. "The outside of a person gets dirtied every day," she remembered her father telling her in Chinese. "But the things your hands make and the knowledge your mind gains remain under your power to shape and use."

She graduated a year early from a certain Massachusetts institute with a degree in mechanical engineering. But the student loans were a burden she couldn't afford to bring to her father, whose ailing health wasn't aided by his smoking. And so she found herself combing the classifieds, yawning at the personal ads and raising an eyebrow at the offers of Russian brides.

Until the massive spread of brick red newsprint exploded across the next page. "Reliable Excavation Demolition!" it proclaimed in classic white cursive. "Engineers especially encouraged! Build innovative technology and make a difference!" The vague wording was just enough to give her hope. And so she took the ad's advice and applied, submitting a pristine copy of her resume.

"Red is good color, Ceely," her father had told her. "Lucky color in China. You are special girl, too. Sure to get job."

A week later, she got a tinny phone call and a request for an interview as soon as possible. And so she scrounged around and found an actual women's blouse in the alley trash cans next door, and redesigned one of her father's old overcoats into a semi-stylish pencil skirt, spending the entire evening hunched over the dim glow from the sewing machine. Wobbling into the office two days later on borrowed heels with no hose, she smiled broadly and gave the bespectacled young lady behind the desk a firm handshake.

"The Administrator is ready for you now, Miss Wang."

The woman seated at the cluttered desk in the room was also dressed in purple. The room was heavy with smoke, but she tried to ignore it. The lady's glare, however, was like a stamp of disapproval as her half-lidded eyes raked haughtily over Ceely's hair, over the mismatched skirt and heels. "Close the door, Ms. Pauling." The younger woman tittered nervously and left, shutting her in.

The Administrator terrified her, but in a different way than the thesis panel had. She looked like a woman with no expectations and infinite amounts of disappointment at her disposal. "Cecilia Wang. You're a girl."

_Woman_, she argued in her mind. But ten years living in the South before college made her bite her tongue. "Yes, ma'am."

The Administrator took a long drag, biting down unnecessarily hard on the end of the cigarette. "I suppose it was my fault for assuming the best from the application. Prop will be hearing from me for this." Ceely nodded, not sure what to say. The Administrator continued, one penciled brow arched. _That eyebrow is definitely drawn on._ "But you have the experience, and you're used to working in…less than ideal conditions."

"Yes ma'am." The Administrator narrowed her eyes, one bony finger drawing a nail across the copy of Ceely's CV.

"You are aware," she began sternly, "that we did not expect a female to apply for such a position."

"The ad didn't say male engineer, ma'am."

The Administrator stared hard at Ceely, and her thin lips twisted wryly in the semblance of a smirk. "Indeed. And you do know that every female hired so far has been unable to uphold their end of the contract?"

This did not surprise her. _But what was that about a contract?_ "I hadn't known, but correlation does not imply causality. Past probabilities have no indication in independent events."

The Administrator waved an impatient hand. "Spare me your talk. You will be spending company with nine other men, none of whom will appreciate a garrulous engineer."

"It'll be like every other day in college." She was used to being one of the guys. Her ironing board physique didn't hurt this.

"Miss Wang, I am certain you will find that the experience with RED will be nothing like an ivory tower." Her hand pulled open a desk drawer, and for a moment, Ceely was scared that the icy woman would pull out a revolver. But she merely withdrew a large envelope and a pen. "Read this document, please. And sign if you are willing."

Ceely took the paper she pushed towards her, eyes scanning quickly over the black print. _Contract…terms…one year of employment…prompt obedience…abiding all rules and regulations to be given on arrival at positions…unwavering alliance to RED._ She bit her lip at the strange wording. But the second to last bullet point almost made her gasp. _Salary negotiable, starting at a base of $2,000/mo._ She'd be able to repay all of her loans in less than six months, all while doing what she loved: building machines.

The pen scratched on the heavyweight paper. The Administrator smiled and handed Ceely the envelope. "Here is your ticket and a copy of your contract. You will be going to Teufort in Arizona. They have just recently required an engineer to remedy structural insecurities. The train leaves on Friday."

Ceely nodded, slipping the envelope into the folder she carried. She thanked the Administrator and shook her clammy hand. As she made her way unsteadily to the door, the older woman's voice floated out to her like the smoke. "Miss Wang? I never want to see you in heels again."

Ceely smiled, one hand on the doorknob. "Yes ma'am. You and me both."

She could have mistaken the Administrator's cough for a barking laugh.

* * *

><p>The stations left on the list before Teufort peeled away as the hours passed. Ceely, waking from a short nap, was left soon in silence as the compartment spat out the last of the other passengers, bound for nicer things. The clacking of the train tracks mocked her, as she remembered what she heard.<p>

The rumors first came to her when she was in college. At the career fair, the RED and BLU booths were almost deserted, despite the enthusiasm displayed by the recruiters. As a freshman, she had been curious enough, and actually talked with the BLU representative at length about the need for function over form, but they weren't interested in a girl, much less one so young.

It wasn't until afterwards that she found out why nobody was interested in the two companies. A graduate student who had seen her talking to them sat her down on a bench outside. "Ceely, listen. You're a bright girl, and you're a rare one in this field. Don't get involved with those companies," he told her in a hushed whisper. "Some people never make it back. Of the people I've seen who return, not one of them has come back the way they went."

"Well, it's what I expect. I mean, they did have that war at some point, right? The Mann brothers?" Ceely remembered her father telling her how the secret war had ended with the simultaneous deaths of the brothers in 1971, barely two years ago.

But the other student shook his head. "It's not just psychological trauma. Every one of them is missing a limb, maybe two, and sometimes they're even permanently disfigured elsewhere. My best friend was drafted in to be a soldier, and when he came back, he was on crutches, and didn't talk to anybody for the next year before he killed himself. "

She understood his warning, but when she was applying for this job, she figured she'd be an engineer. And engineers worked behind the scenes; they never touched a battlefield. All she had to do was design, build, and fix, and leave the operation to the field hands.

It was dark outside already. She couldn't tell how fast the train was moving, or where she was; oddly, there were no streetlights anywhere outside. Ceely rubbed her eyes with the long sleeve of her red button down shirt. The letter in the envelope she was given stated that the only acceptable top dress must be red. This had been easy for her; Ceely's father was more than happy to spend money on red shirts for his daughter, especially since she preferred cheap flannel and linen men's button downs.

The rumble and clack of the train hurtling across the continent was a soothing noise, with the occasional hiss of pneumatics or brakes around turns. _We have so much trust in machines_. _I can't trust humans nearly as much._ As auspicious as this journey had been, with the red, the engineer, the immediate job offer, and the gratuitous salary, she couldn't help but feel unease. Something wasn't quite right about the old lady in purple. Or maybe it was the contract. Ceely had read over the contract several times after she got home, and each time, the wording struck her as strange. She felt like she had signed over any semblance of free will.

But the long day was catching up to her. The air in the train car had a pleasant scent, like warm baked goods. She closed her tired eyes and troubled thoughts, one hand in her lap, the other one slung around her backpack on the seat beside her. The rhythm of the train tracks lulled her into sleep again.

* * *

><p>"…Miss? 'Scuse me, miss?"<p>

"…mmmhuh?" Ceely straightened, blinking sleep away, something that seemed harder than usual. The conductor looked down at her kindly.

"Miss, we've arrived at Teufort. I woulda wakened you sooner, but you looked like you needed the extra shuteye."

Ceely nodded, yawning. "Ah, excuse me. Thank you, sir. I'll collect my bag in a moment."

"No need to hurry, miss, we're refueling anyways." With another gentle smile that twitched his moustache, the conductor left the compartment. Ceely nudged open the curtains from the window and looked out across the desert landscape, the sands rosy in the early morning sun. With a sigh and a weak smile, she stood up, stretched, and shouldered her backpack, heading for the luggage compartment.

The caster wheels on her retrofitted suitcase clattered against the wooden planks of the station platform, but she knew they would hold. She had tightened every one of those nuts and bolts herself four years ago, knowing that this was her only suitcase, and knowing she would have to make it last through college and beyond. The midsummer air here was dry already, though fairly cool still. A bell dinged, and she turned to watch the conductor as the train began moving. He tipped his hat towards her, a smile on his face but a crease of worry-or was it pity?- in his eyes. Ceely smiled brightly and waved back at him, trying to reassure him. He mouthed what she thought was, "Good luck", and his smile faded as he turned away from her to head back into the departing train.

"Hm. Goodbyes are always sad." She was out of college, and the only family she had was many states east away. She wouldn't even see this train until one year later. But this next year was going to be idyllic for her; building machines and engineering for preposterous amounts of money, with similarly motivated engineers. She hummed, and began walking energetically towards the faded, hand-painted plank sign that said "2Fort". The wheels of her suitcase scattered a fine trail of dust that settled over her footprints.

As she neared the only other structure than the scattered abandoned barns on the horizon, she was shocked both at the size as well as the state of disrepair. One of the two forts (they weren't much more than their name) was all wood and rust, with peeling red paint on silos, and worn weathervanes that swiveled reluctantly in the scant breeze. The other was faded blue steel siding and corrugated metal, crusted rivets and unstable rafters. Several telephone wires and poles spanned across the two buildings, but she was struck most by the tall fences that seemed to cut right through the buildings, chain links that sandwiched a sliver of the buildings, along with a covered bridge over the stagnant river, which was likewise boarded up.

"That's a stupid place to put fences," she grumbled to herself, feeling her expectations plummet. "Who the hell engineered this terrible architecture?"

She jumped as a voice barked at her from above. "STAND and DELIVER, yeh maggot!" Craning her neck, she looked up past the fencing towards the roof, where a broad-shouldered man with a military helmet that covered his eyes was standing, hands behind his back.

"Uhm…hi, I'm Ceci-"

"I need your PROFESSION, maggot, not your NAME. NOBODY here needs to know your name." As he stared down at her (or so she supposed he was doing), his lips curled in a snarl. Ceely bit her lip.

"Uh. Engineer, sir." And she snapped to a salute with her free hand, since it seemed fitting. The red military man returned the salute with practiced efficiency, the grenades slung over his chest shaking slightly as he whipped his hand down.

"At ease, Private." She dropped her hand, feeling ridiculous. She was an engineer for a demolition company, not some soldier in the army.

But before she could ask him what he was doing here, she jumped again as somebody slammed into the fence in front of her. "'Ello there, laddie. Don't let ol' Solly bother ye," he slurred, squinting his one good eye at Ceely and poking his nose through a hole in the fence. "Cannae tell, but I think -hic- yer a wee bit short fer a new Scoot…" He took a deep swig from the amber bottle in his hand, sizing Ceely up.

Ceely's mind reeled. _What the…it's a drunk Scottish black man with an eyepatch. And he thinks I'm a guy._ She was pretty sure that a man so drunk shouldn't be allowed to contact any of the munitions he had strapped to his person. He caught her staring and gave her a wide grin, punctuated with a loud belch._ God, I can smell him from here._ She tried her best to take shallow breaths, backing away. "Look, uh, hey. I'm…uh, I'm looking for a place called Teufort. I'm supposed to be working as an engineer there."

"MAGGOT. This here fortress IS Two-Fort. Aren't you a bit on the scrawny side to be an engineer, Private?"

Ceely was about to retaliate, but the Scotsman interrupted with a loud snore as he slumped to the ground against the fence. Ceely looked down at him with disgust, but when she turned back to the roof, the helmeted man in red was gone. "Hello?" she called. The only reply was another snore. She frowned and tromped over to the sleeping man. "Mister? Hey, mister."

He snorted when she poked him, and blinked groggily at her. "'Ey, laddie…" He paused, squinting as Ceely pursed her lips. "Wait…lass? Yer a lass!" Immediately, he straightened, sagging against the fence. "What brings ye tae Teufort, then?"

"I'm supposed to be working here. I'm an engineer for RED." She bristled against his disapproving glance. "Really, man. Where am I supposed to go now?"

He grunted, and gulped down some more liquor. "Ach, prolly ower there. I'll open yeh for the gate...nah, the _gate_ for yeh. Ole Scrumpy, givin' me tongue all knots." She followed him slowly as he dragged along the fence, and she was surprised when he ignored the padlocked gates completely and disappeared into right doorway of the complex behind the fence. Moments later, she heard the creak of a door, and he staggered out from the shadows of the large door labeled "Loading Dock" to her right. With one last glance upwards around the complex, Ceely pulled her suitcase up and followed the man inside.

The door swung shut heavily behind her.

The floorboards echoed as they walked along the complex, taking rights and lefts that left Ceely confused. But the man seemed very familiar with it all. "M'name's- well, Solly was right, I ken names'll do ye nae good, lass. So jus' call me Demo."

"Demo?"

"Short for demoman."

"Ah." Ceely furrowed her brow. It made sense for a demoman to work for RED. "So who was that other guy?"

"Thass our Soldier. 'E's a tad…touched." Demo gave a humorless bark of laughter, gesturing with his amber bottle. Ceely nodded, trying to focus more on remembering the path they were taking. It wasn't working.

They took another turn and ended up at a set of large double doors that transitioned into a well lit hallway, clean tile and whitewashed walls contrasting with the hay and lumber that she had seen so far. The short hallway opened up to a neat T, with a sign on the right that pointed to the barracks, and a sign to the left pointing to the mess hall and recreation. Ceely was feeling more uncomfortable by the second. "I think I'm in the wrong place. Shouldn't the barracks be…you know, for the army or whatever? I'm just an engineer."

Demo laughed heartily, spraying her with flecks of liquor and spit, but when she simply looked back at him nonplussed, his smile faded. "Aye, 'sbeen a while since we hadda lass in here, but ye ken tha job of Engineer'll see the field halfaday, even if yer not a fightin' one." Ceely furrowed her brow.

"I didn't sign up to fight. I signed up to be an engineer and build machines. I thought the war was over. What's this crap about fighting?"

A look of profound pity found its way to Demo's face despite his drunkenness. He thrust the bottle of liquor into her hands, sloshing a bit, and clapped her on the shoulder. "I'm thinkin' you'll be needin' Ole Scrumpy more'n meself, fer this first week. Yer room's tae the right, las' one on the left. 'S a bit smallish, but ye ken we weren't expectin' another person. Engie'll be tha room next tae yours, e'll show you tha base." He pushed her gently towards the barracks, and wandered off to the left, warbling off-tune and belching occasionally.

Ceely bit her lip and shoved her hands in the pockets of her baggy jeans, tilting her head as she reconstituted Demo's speech in her head. _Oh lordy, it's gonna be another long day._

* * *

><p>So there's a start. I tried very hard to not make this a mary sue. It's more of an intro character, but as part of my nonsuepreparation, I've written an extensive storyline and backstories for all the characters. Please let me know if there's any criticism or conceits to use or see more of. Reviews are appreciated. <em><br>_


	2. Chapter 2

Hey folks, here's the next chapter. Much thanks to StephREDSniper for being a great beta. Let me know how I did, or if you have any suggestions.

Chapter 2

The further she walked down the whitewashed hall, the more it reeked. She picked around the empty beer bottles but didn't bother avoiding them with the suitcase, hoping that someone would hear the clinking. Looking at the aftermath of what was probably a helluva party last night, it didn't seem likely to see another conscious being before noon.

The smell intensified as she reached the source: a sad liquid puddle of sick in front of the third red door on the left side of the narrow hall. She strove for a wide circle around that door, and just as she was taking off the keys taped to her door, she heard a lock pop and a door swing open.

A skinny young man with short brown hair shuffled out in pajama bottoms, rubbing his eyes with the heel of one hand and scratching his crotch with the other. Ceely called out a moment too late, "Hey, watch out for the-…"

There was a small splash. The boy looked down, and his sleepy eyes bugged out. "Aw, what da fuck, man! Fuckin…in front of my own fuckin' door too…" Ceely bit back a smile as he wiped his bare foot around on a few cleaner tiles, disgust pulling down the corners of his mouth. He looked up and scowled at her. "What're _you_ lookin' at, chucklenuts?"

"Oh, nothing." The boy did a double take, rubbing at his eyes some more, and leaned against the doorframe, flashing a wide grin.

"Well, hello there, sweetcheeks. Are ya new to da base?" Ceely nodded, but couldn't get a word in as the boy continued. "I've gotta split, but, uh, when I get back, I could give you a real, uh, _personal_ tour of dis place, if you know what I mean."

_Alright, play it cool, he's just like the neighborhood guys. _"Sure thing, hotshot. Just let me get settled, and you can show me around or something." She bent down to pick up her suitcase, and by the time she straightened, the door of the bathroom halfway down the hall was swinging shut. _Damn, that boy runs fast._

Her room was indeed smaller than the one she had in college, with a high window across from the door that let in the hot late morning sun, flanked by a narrow made bed and small writing desk and chair. There was a small sink on the right wall beside a dresser. It was a pretty standard setup, and didn't smell nearly as bad as the hall. She set the bottle of liquor from Demo on the dresser, skeptical about it at best. She closed the door and lugged her suitcase onto the bed, unpacking the few things she had brought: some books, clothes, and the usual necessities. Maybe during the holidays, she'd pick up some more winter clothes from home.

The contract had expressly forbidden any sort of personal effects or identifiers. "Can't believe I almost told that first guy my name," Ceely muttered as she closed the drawers. It had been difficult to leave her diary and mementos behind. In the end, she brought only her toolbox, and the short metal bead necklace she rarely removed, but it was entirely generic, just a length of chain from any hardware store. Her own take on pearls, as it were.

She sat down on the springy bed, picking up the closest book to her from the stack on the desk and flipping to a random page. _and who were given instead the concrete void of insulin/ Metrazol electricity hydrotherapy psycho-/ therapy occupational therapy pingpong &/ amnesia_

Ah. It was disturbing for Ginsberg to show at a time like this, at a time of hope and future for Ceely. Statistically speaking though, the chance that she would end up flipping to this specific page of the anthology was increased by the number of times she had read this poem, so she just shrugged and flipped to some Millay instead.

But she found she couldn't concentrate on the words. Instead, her mind wandered to the territory of doubt. This was, after all, her first job coming out of college, and she didn't know quite what to expect. Would the hours be grueling and boring? Would she get along with her coworkers?

A knock sounded at the door. "Coming," she called, leaving the book on the bed. She opened the door and was nearly blinded by the sunlight reflecting the whiteness of the boy's bare chest, and took at step backwards.

The boy grinned at her and propped himself against the doorframe. "Hey sweetcheeks, toldya I'd be back. Had ta piss like a- I mean, uh… had ta go real bad." Ceely noted his large mouth and teeth. His breath smelled like mint.

"Hey, man, no worries. I don't care how you talk around me. I went to college with mostly guys, and I'm afraid I've picked up a bit of the habit too, so it's cool with me."

A flicker of disappointment crossed the boy's face. "Oh. Well, my ma always told me ta watch my mouth around da ladies, so dem old habits die hard, ya know?" If Ceely hadn't known any better, she would have blushed. "But I gotta killer headache, so do ya wanna catch some cawffee wid me down in da mess hall? Snipes is a creepy old homo, but he makes a good cuppa joe."

"On one condition: you stop calling me sweetcheeks. My name's C-...Call me Engineer." The boy grinned again.

"Deal. I'm Scout, by the way." He began sauntering down the cluttered hall, and Ceely noticed his pajama bottoms were a bit too short for him. "Are ya comin', dollface?"

She gave him a warning glare. "Not that either. I'm an Engineer, Scout." He wasn't fazed.

"Sure, whateva."

Ceely raised her eyebrow and smiled humorlessly. "Alright, I guess I'll see you around then. I can find the mess hall myself." She turned to go back into her room.

Scout caught her by the wrist. "Hey, hey, chill, I was just messin' wid ya!" But then he checked himself and dropped her hand with a flush. "I-I mean, what are ya, some kinda lesbo or somethin'? I'm tellin' ya, chicks line up to go out for cawffee wid me. I just, uh, didn't want you missin' out on the, uh, pleasure of my company." He puffed out his scrawny chest, arms in what looked like an uncomfortable pose. Ceely stifled a laugh.

"What're those supposed to be, chicken wings?" He looked offended by her joke, and her smile faltered a bit.

"Whaddya mean? I've got sweet guns!" He narrowed his eyes and poked her hard in the chest. "And lemme tell ya, you're not so easy on the eyes either, _Engie_."

He started walking off down the hallway again. Ceely jogged after him. "Hey, wait up man. I'm sorry, I was just messing with you. You reminded me of the guys I used to hang out with back at home."

"Yeah, well, I'm not one of them," he sneered, not looking at her.

"Alright, I'll keep that in mind." She frowned. "And hey, what do you mean, not easy on the eyes? That's not even the point here!" She drew back her sleeve and flexed. Scout glanced over, and Ceely was satisfied at the surprised glint in his eye. "I've done a bit of scrappin' myself, hotshot, so I can handle my own, thank you very much."

He scoffed, much to her chagrin. "Yeah, yeah, so you're another butch girl tryin' tuh be 'one of the guys'," he mocked in a girly voice, with little air quotes. "That's not how it's gonna work here, so you just leave the fightin' to the men with guns, alright?" Ceely's attempt at a rebuttal was cut short by the heavy sound of footsteps.

"YOU SORRY MAGGOTS SOUND LIKE A HENHOUSE OUT THERE." The automatic door to the mess hall whooshed open, and Soldier chugged the rest of the milk straight from the carton. "And I cannot enjoy my COMPLETE AMERICAN BREAKFAST because of it. Now git inside and stuff your piehole or scram!" With that, he crushed the carton, about-faced, and rammed the carton into the overflowing trash can.

Scout cradled his head. "Jesus H. Christ! Don't be so freakin' loud, we're standin' right here!"

"It's not my fault you can't HANDLE our OUTSTANDING American beer, lightweight!"

"I'm not a lightweight, you psycho," Scout grumbled as he shuffled across the expansive room into the kitchen. Ceely was about to follow him until a rough hand clamped on her shoulder and turned her around.

"Where's yer uniform, Private?" She winced. _Oh god, this man is going to kill me…_

"Uh, I was told to wear red, and-"

"I'm not blind or deaf. We are a TEAM here, and that means ALL Engineers MUST WEAR-"

"Don't get yer britches in a bunch, Ah've got the new Engie's uniform right here." A stocky man with a shaven head and warm smile was walking towards Ceely and Soldier, but he stopped short and stared at her, the smile waning by degrees. "Well, don't that beat all. What's a girl like yew doin' here in 2fort?"

Ceely pressed her lips into a thin line. "I'm an engineer, hired by RED a couple of weeks back. They told me I'd be working at Teufort, so here I am."

"Well, she-yoot." He scratched his head slowly. "Ah figgered the new Engie'd be a bit different, but Ah didn't 'spect yew tuh be a girl."

She fought the urge to roll her eyes."With all due respect sir, my ability as an engineer has nothing to do with the number of X chromosomes I have."

"DAMN RIGHT, PRIVATE." The spray of spit showered the left side of her face, and she grimaced a bit, now even more wary to turn back towards Soldier. "LOOK AT ME, YEH MAGGIT." She did, staring up into the cold slate eyes under the shadow of the helmet, too scared to comprehend his affirmative response. He shook her slightly by her collar, gritting his teeth. "YOU have been hired with a VERY specific set of OBJECTIVES, and you will NOT dishonor MY TEAM by FAILING on the field of battle." He dragged her face closer to his until the rim of his helmet collided with her forehead, and snarled in a low tone, "And those BLU sunsabitches do not give a rat's ass if you're a womenfolk or a MAN."

Feeling the blood drain from her face, she began to breathe easier as Soldier tromped out of the mess hall. The man with the Texan accent turned to her, embarrassment coloring his already ruddy cheeks. "Ah'm sincerely sorry 'bout Soldier's behavior. He don't quite have his head on the same plane as the rest of us."

"Eh. I actually kind of like him. He's got the right ideas and expectations."

"Ah, uh, suppose that's true to an extent. But anyways, Ah'm the Engineer, and Ah'll be trainin' ya fer these next few weeks. Yer lucky yew arrived on time fer the weekend ceasefire." She shook his offered hand firmly, but let it go after realizing something wasn't quite right under the yellow glove.

"Uh-hum. And, uh, what's this about a ceasefire? I keep hearing about fighting, but I thought the war was over." _And is it the weekend already? Did I spend two whole days on that train?_

Engineer gave her the same look of pity she had gotten twice today already, but his reply was cut off by Ceely's stomach growling. He pulled the goggles on his forehead over his eyes, mouth twitching into a frown. "Ah'll let Scout tell yew about it over yer breakfast. That boy's mighty fond o' talkin'. Ah'll be back in a few minutes tuh join ya. Ah reckon you'll need a smaller uniform." With a brief smile and a quick nod, he jogged out of the room as well.

"Uh, I don't think that Scout will…" But he was already out of earshot. "Dammit. I just want to know what's actually going on in this place…" she grumbled as she made her way to the kitchen. "Especially since he seemed like the only sane person I've met since coming here."

Over the sound of the coffee brewer's last sputtering sigh, she heard the jackrabbit speed of Scout's yammering. "…like the stupid girl she is, and she thinks she can just walk in here and start fightin'? I'm tellin' ya, she should just go back home or at least put some makeup on that mug of hers or somethin', sheesh! At least then we can get a little eye candy up in here. I mean, she's got beefier arms than I do! She's about as straight as my Granny Alewife's crooked ol' teeth, that's for sure."

Outside the kitchen, Ceely shoved her hands in her pockets and toed the tiled floor with her boot. She'd been here for less than an hour, and already she'd been yelled at and made an enemy of the only guy her age here. And on top of this was the feeling of not being told something, of being held in the dark about a crucial piece of information. Despite her empty stomach, breakfast didn't seem like the best choice of action anymore.

Scout bumped into her as he left the kitchen, sloshing hot coffee on both of them. She jumped back, and he scowled at her. "Watch where you're goin, butch!"

"Ah, shaddap." She offered him a stiff middle finger in retaliation, but he was already stalking out the door. "And my name's Engineer!" With a last dirty look towards him, she turned and ambled into the kitchen.

"Ah, you can't get that boy ta shut up. It's bloody useless." The lanky man in the corner poured himself a cup of coffee and turned to face Ceely, tipping his slouch hat at her with a lazy smile. "G'day. You must be the new Engie we've all heard about."

"Yup. That's me," Ceely piped, voice a little higher than she intended.

The man glanced at his mug through his yellow tinted shades and raised it slightly in her direction. "You're a mighty fine sheila, I'll give you that. Not the way that Scout tells it."

"Uh, thanks…?" She leaned against the counter awkwardly. "Yeah, I've dealt with guys like him before. He's like the boys back in my street, still going on about cooties and how girls can't run as fast. We'll see how long it takes for me to prove him wrong." Her dismissive tone was airier than usual, much to her disgust.

"Confidence. I like that in a woman." He sidled over to her. "My name's Sniper, by the way. You know, there are some of us here who are actual men 'stead of boys, and we have a bit more idea of what we're doing. Professionals, as it were." He was towering over her now, one hand propped on the cabinet, the other uncomfortably close to hers on the counter. His eyes were hungry behind the amber lenses, and his lips were drawn in a sly smile that revealed the barest sliver of crooked teeth. "And I, for one, am rather well equipped to provide certain services, free of charge for a looker like you…"

"Watch it, Slim." The Engineer had returned, and was standing in the doorway to the kitchen holding a stack of clothes, flexing his gloved hand with a look of warning on his face. Ceely almost sighed in relief. But Sniper simply closed his eyes without his smirk waning, as if he knew this would happen. He leaned close to her before he walked towards the door, and she caught a heady whiff of coffee, hay, and waxy pomade. "I'll be in my camper out back if you, ah, need anything." She could hear the suggestion in his husky murmur and shivered. With a chuckle, he took a sip of coffee and walked out of the kitchen. "Hooroo, mates." The swish of the automatic door followed not long after.

The Engineer stared daggers at the Sniper until he was out of sight, then turned to Ceely. "You alright there, darlin'?" Ceely nodded. "Well, here's yer uniform, but it's cease-fire durin' the weekend, so ya probably don't need tuh wear it right now, as long as yer wearin' some sort of red." He handed her a stack of denim, linen, and flannel, as well as a couple of undershirts. "Sorry it's all men's styles, the regulation uniforms…"

"Oh, it's alright. As you can probably tell, I don't mind." She tucked the clothes under one arm and gestured at her button down and loose jeans with her free hand.

The Engineer nodded and smiled. "A practical woman. That's a heckuva lot more useful tuh have around here. But you're gonna want to watch yerself around this base. Ah'd say most of us are honorable men, but at the end of the day, the most of us are still murderers."

She almost dropped the cup of coffee she had just finished pouring. "What? Murderers?"

The Engineer sighed and rubbed his shaven head. "Ah guess you haven't been briefed on the entire situation yet…" She shook her head slowly, wide eyed. He pulled out a chair and sat her down in it, placing a sandwich from the fridge in front of her. "You're gonna want to eat up. It'll be a long day ahead of ya. Well, Ah don't know how tuh sugarcoat this any better for ya, but yer a part of the war now."

Ceely nibbled at the sandwich. "Thought the war finished four years ago, in Seventy One."

"RED and BLU run our so-called governments, it's only natural that they told the people what they wanted."

"I'll raise my glass to that," she remarked bitterly. The Engineer chuckled.

"That's wise of ya. But it's not just our governments. Ah've reason tuh believe that there's more to the story, 'specially with the Administrator keepin' tabs on us off base so we can't even talk about it outside. Personally, Ah'd stay away from discussin' work while on vacation, there should be a line about that in your contract. Else there's always a chance of yer respawn goin' suspiciously wrong, if you get what Ah'm sayin'."

The coffee burned the roof of her mouth, but she swallowed the sandwich and coffee anyways. "Respawn?"

"Ah guess Scout didn't get a chance tuh tell you anything before Ah saw him walkin' out of here."

"Yeah, he's a prickly sort from what I've seen. It'll be a while before we can get used to each other." She took a big bite of her sandwich.

The Engineer chuckled and poured himself a cup of coffee. "What I wouldn't give tuh be young again like y'all…But as I was sayin', respawn's the system that basically brings ya back to life after you've been killed in battle. Dyin' itself is painful, and the system's a bit expensive, so Ah don't recommend ya do it often."

"Wasn't planning on it." _Wasn't planning on dying for another fifty years, though, and look how that turned out._

"We never do, sweetheart. But there's somethin' you oughta know. Us respawnin' means we get reverted back to the version of us that first arrived on base. Each time we die, we come back as we were years ago. Me personally, Ah've been here since way back in sixty six, and Ah haven't aged a day since then. Helped design this system myself, as a matter of fact, not that Ah'm particularly proud of it."

"Well, I'd be proud of it, it's a pretty advanced system, if you ask me. And hey, it keeps us from aging, that's gotta be worth something." She tried to laugh, but it caught in her throat, so she settled for a haphazard smile instead. "If I have to spend the rest of my foreseeable future here, might as well stay young for it…"

She took another bite and chewed laboriously. Her food was crumbling in her mouth, tasteless, and the sugar in the coffee was suddenly too much for her. She swallowed hard and scooted away from the table, gathering her dishes and poking the remainder of the sandwich into the trash. One more gulp of coffee and the rest went down the sink, the foam cup in the trash. The water from the faucet was lukewarm as she began washing the dishes.

The Engineer set his cup down and cleared his throat uncomfortably. "It's a bit hard to come tuh terms with in the beginnin', but you'll be alright, kiddo."

Ceely scrubbed at her plate, biting her lip as she constructed an answer. "Yeah, I'll be alright. I just…didn't expect this. I thought…" She turned off the faucet and shook off the plate, reaching for the ragged towel. "I just thought I'd be here to build a few machines, get my pay, and then leave after a year, you know? I didn't sign up for any of this fighting. I didn't even know the war was still going on. And now I guess I'm trapped here, more or less. I don't even know where _here_ is." She looked at the Engineer and grimaced. "Oh geez, I'm so sorry I just unloaded all of that onto you. I'm not usually like this. It's…it's all just a bit much right now…"

He smiled comfortingly. "Ah know it's usually impolite tuh guess at a lady's age, but you're what, twenny five? Six?"

"Twenty two last October."

"Whoo. That's younger than you let on. Fresh outta college then?" She nodded grimly, placing the plate on the drying rack. "You've got quite a life ahead of ya, so don't go worryin' about this job. You won't come outta here any older, and they'll have tuh let you out sometime." She smiled weakly, unconvinced, and went to pick up her stack of uniforms. He shrugged. "But Ah'll stop jawin' away and just give you a short tour and explain to ya what yer duties'll be here. This is one of the smaller bases, so it won't take long tuh show you around, and you'll be done with your physical examination in a jiffy."

"One of the smaller bases? And uh, is a physical really necessary?" She shifted the clothes she was holding.

The Engineer shrugged. "There's six bases total here in Badlands, and we switch out on a two-month rotation cycle, with a week of vacation at the end of each rotation. And we'll show ya 'round once we get to each new base, so don't go worryin' about the new surroundings or protocol. The physical ain't more than a simple checkup, and Ah'm pretty sure it won't be much different for a lady."

Ceely nodded slowly, thoughts churning. "I-uh…alright then, I guess."

With a sympathetic smile, he clapped her on the back. "That's the spirit. Ah know it's a lot tuh take in all at once, but if you're here, it means you've got a purty steep learnin' curve." She smiled wanly back. "And remember, darlin', we've all been there at some point." He waved her towards the door.

They headed further down the hallway, and the Engineer opened the door briefly for her. "This here's our recreation room, but it tends tuh get a bit messy on weekends, especially if we won the week's battles overall," he remarked proudly. Ceely peeked in and saw Demo snoozing on one of the worn sofas, television displaying muted static on the other side of the room. A table near the other corner had some cards scattered on it, and a tall white fridge hummed against the wall. Several beer bottles were discarded around this room as well, on the various tables and across the floor. She let a small smile grace her lips at the scene, familiar in its implications of debauchery, and the Engineer nodded in recognition, letting the door shut. "Ah reckon you've seen your share of the aftermath of a good Friday evenin'."

"Yup. College is good for all sorts of education." The Engineer gave a low chuckle.

"Seems like it's been ages since Ah walked across that stage fer the last time. The war room's right down the end of that there hallway." She glanced at the lone lit door and they walked on.

"The last time? Like after grad school?"

"Oh no, missy. Like grad school eleven times."

Ceely's eyes widened. " Eleven? Eleven degrees?"

"Hard science wasn't somethin' I could quit cold turkey. Ah just kept runnin' into problems Ah wanted tuh solve, and one or two degrees just wouldn't cut it."

"Whoa. And I thought one degree was hard enough." The Engineer shook his head modestly.

"Ah figgered college was the only time Ah'd be able tuh do nothin' but learn and tinker all day long, so Ah took advantage of it." He gestured to the set of double doors that she remembered entering through. "There're the doors that lead tuh the rest of the fortress. Ah'd avoid the battlefield for the first week altogether while you're trainin', but Ah'll show you around now just in case anythin' happens."

Hearing that single word made her shudder a bit. "Yeah, that sounds like a reasonable plan of action."

The filtered smell of the white hallway transitioned to the musty scent of hay as they stepped into the outdoor portion of the complex. From what she could tell, there were two floors of the fortress, as well as a basement portion that was completely inaccessible from their living quarters.

They walked towards a set of stairs in an open air courtyard. "The way each of our battles works is, you saw how there's two identical bases, one for us RED and one for the BLUs?" She nodded. "Well, in the basement of each of our respective fortresses, we've got a desk that doubles as a semi-controlled teleporter. At the beginnin' of each day, one of the higher ups'll send us a briefcase with some documents inside it, and it'll sit right on the pressure sensors on that teleporter entrance. It's got some chips inside tuh sense when it's replaced by somethin' else."

At the top of the stairs, she got a glimpse of the second level before the Engineer led her down a sloping staircase. "Here's the basement right down here, and if you make a coupla turns…" She saw the war room from the reinforced observation window, and then they turned into a spacious room with a desk in one corner. "That's the base for our intelligence right there. Now the point of each battle is tuh obtain the BLU's intel and bring it back tuh this desk right here, and it's got implanted chips as well that'll be recognized by sensors in the desk, winning the battle fer us. Unfortunately, the BLUs are tryin' tuh do the same thing with our own intel, so yeh get a real commotion out there with nine of us fightin' fer each side."

"What's in those suitcases?"

"Ah'm not sure Ah want to know. Ah tried tuh open it once, and nothing short of sawin it straight open woulda worked. But the moment I got close tuh getting some papers out, our entire team got sent to respawn stasis for nearly an entire day, so believe me, Ah won't be tryin' that one again."

"Respawn stasis?"

"It's the time between your dyin' and respawnin'. It's…" He shook his head bitterly. "Pain. All the pain you got from dyin', but floatin' out there in the blackness, you ain't even sure you've got a body, so all you can think about is how your world is composed entirely of pain."

Ceely winced unconsciously.

They took a winding ramp back up to the second floor. "There's a resupply, fer gettin' ammo or a healthpack, if ya need one. And BLUs can't get in the door, so yeh gotta be careful about exitin', in case one of them yellers decides tuh camp out in front." The door swished open, and she got a whiff of sanitized floors and medicine, making her head spin unpleasantly. The Engineer didn't seem to notice, and was already dragging her through another hallway. "You can read that the sign there says battlements, but tuh tell you the truth, there's an easier way than this." She nodded gratefully, clutching at the edge of the wall and looking down at the ground some fifteen feet below. He chuckled and led her instead to another room down the hall, where a person-sized square was cut out of the metal grate floor. "This drops directly to the first level, and it's a lot faster and probably better for your health."

"But…that's still quite a drop." Her mild fear of heights wasn't helping.

"You'd be surprised. You, uh, receive several augmentations as part of your trainin'. You were supposed tuh have the operations done on the train ride here."

"I-what? This wasn't in the contract! And besides, you can't just have operations on a train! That's…ridiculous." The Engineer rubbed his head ruefully.

"Ah know it's hard tuh believe, sugar, but you realize that the technology we've got here is far past anything the outside world's ever seen. And they've given you chemicals tuh make sure you have extended stamina and strength, in addition tuh some kinda health boost." Ceely looked down at her hands and shook out her legs a little.

"I don't feel any different."

"Try and jump down that hole." She looked at him with hesitation. "Go on, give it a shot. Ah promise your legs won't give you any trouble."

She edged towards the hole and squatted down, gripping the rusty metal and intending to lower herself down. But she squeaked as the Engineer hooked his arms underneath hers and pulled her back into a standing position. "Shoot, not like that now. Just go ahead and drop right down. You won't hurt your legs. And if somethin' happens, we can get Medic tuh patch ya up right quick."

"I'd rather not," she muttered, rocking back and forth in her boots and looking down at the ground one story below. With a deep breath, she steeled herself, and leapt down.

She hit the ground with a quiet grunt, feeling the vibration of shock clinging to her shins and kneecaps, bending her knees almost to a crouch. But to her surprise, she didn't feel the pain that usually accompanied the shock. "What…how?" She stood up quickly, testing her legs, and suddenly collided hard with the wall as her vision swum from the head rush.

The Engineer laughed softly from his perch. "Ah said you wouldn't hurt your legs, but Ah didn't say anythin' about the rest of ya. Careful down there!" And he jumped easily down without a second thought, landing heavily next to her but also showing no indication of any shin-splitting pain.

Ceely was still leaning against the wall, a worried look on her face. "What…" she started to say, but licked her lips and pushed her hair away from her face, grasping at it as if she was trying to figure out if it was real. "What else have they done to me? Is this even me anymore? How much of my life did I just sign over?"

The Engineer sighed and walked over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder and pulling his goggles off with the other. "Look here, darlin'." She looked up into his world-weary eyes, seeing the pity and the worry and the years etched into this face. "Ah've been here longer than anyone, and Ah can tell ya, no operation's gonna change who you are. RED can't take that from ya. All they can do is put some fancy technology in ya that enhances yer natural abilities. But you're still completely yourself, ya got that?" She nodded slowly. He smiled kindly at her. "And don't you go lettin' them take anything without puttin' up a proper fight."

Ceely took a shaky breath. "Thanks, Engineer. I just wish I had had a bit of warning about what it was going to be like. I never expected to fight, much less be here for more than a year."

Something behind his eyes hardened, but there was also a spark of hope. "You're lucky that the security cameras are off on weekends, so Ah can tell ya somethin': Ah've been workin' on a theory that'll solve some of our problems." She quirked an eyebrow at him, and he pulled his goggles back on with a faint smirk. "Just don't go breathin' a word of this to the others. We're trainin' together, so Ah can keep you informed on mah…research." She nodded slowly, mind still reeling.

They made a very brief walkaround in the area in front of the base, to show her the bridge and the sewers. She glanced past the chain link fence at the train station wistfully before they headed back inside and underground.

"Now, normally us Engineers just build sentries, dispensers, or teleporters instead of goin' after the Intel. We leave the jobs of offense to Scout, Pyro, and Soldier. So you're a lot more useful buildin' sentry guns or teleporters fer yer teammates tuh use. But if one of them hollers for ya, you're free tuh assist them as you judge necessary." Back in the brightly lit hallway, they took a right towards the barracks, but stopped at a polished metal swing door. "Speakin' of which, it's a bit impractical tuh call you Engie, at least fer the first month or so, while yer still trainin'. Just tuh keep us two straight, is there another name you'd maybe go by? Not yer real name, y'see, just a nomiker that isn't the same as mine."

"Uhm." She squinted at the ground, arms akimbo. "Well, there's a thing they used to call us back in college, more of a joke actually, but yeah, Eit. Stands for Engineer in Training. Whenever one of us screwed things up, we'd just go, 'Eit!' and all was forgiven. You can't eit hot coffee on someone, though," she added with a low laugh.

The Engineer chuckled and clapped a hand on her shoulder. "Eit. Ah like the sound of that. Welcome to RED, Eit."

Just then, the grey doors swung open, and a tall man in a white medical coat strode proudly out and clasped his hands together, looking down at Ceely through pince-nez. "Ah! Zis must be zhe new Engineer!" Ceely didn't like the way his eyes glinted, and his smile had entirely too many teeth. "I am the Medic, and if you are ready for zhe examination, zhen, step right in, bitte."

And then the smell hit her. The stunningly sterile whiff of antiseptic, the nauseating grease of latex, the staleness of cotton and wood. She blinked and took a step backwards, rubbing her nose to discreetly block out the scent. _'Be still,'_ she commanded to her threatening heart, closing her eyes for a little longer than the standard blink.

Engie looked at her oddly. "It's really nothin' tuh be afraid of, just a superficial physical examination."

"Ja, it is all rather banal and routine." The Medic seemed disappointed, but he hitched the same smile back onto his face. _Is that smirk supposed to be comforting?_

Ceely clenched her fists and nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Stiffly, she walked into the room as the Medic held the door open for her. "Ah'll meet ya in the mess hall," the Engineer called after her with a touch of concern in his voice. She nodded her head quickly, feeling her hands begin to shake with adrenaline. _Don't look at the walls. Don't look at the bottles. This table is clean. It's metal. No blood, see? No pain, no death, it's perfectly…clean…_

The door oscillated and then shut suddenly with a damping mechanism. _Like the sudden flatline of her mother's ECG._ The Medic's tall boots squeaked slightly on the clean tile and he withdrew a clipboard from a drawer and inserted a paper with a familiar click, professional and practiced.

"Take a seat on zhe table, bitte."

She couldn't do it. _Come on, it's just a table. Just walk forward, turn around, and hop on it. Perfectly normal._ She approached the table cautiously and turned around.

The second her fingers braced themselves on the stainless steel edge, she recoiled with a whimper. "Ican'tdothis…ican'tdothisican'tdothis- ohgod-ohgodno-…" Still muttering, she walked swiftly to the door and pushed her way out, ignoring the Medic's surprise. The hallway rewarded her lungs with normal air, none of the chemicals and hidden blood. The Engineer, halfway down the hallway, jogged back towards her.

"Eit? What's the matter?"

"Yes, vhat is the matter, Fraulein?" the Medic asked irritably, pushing through the doors. "I am a busy man, mit science to be done. Let us continue with zhe routine exam." He held the door open with an exaggerated bow. But Ceely shook her head, looking down at the floor and taking deep breaths.

"I-I can't. I just…" She looked up at him, trying to tell him without speaking. He only arched one thick brow at her. "It…it smells like death."

The Medic sniffed. "Nonsense. Everyzhing in zis room is sanitized, and zhe respawn does not even happen here. Zhe only death zhat zis room has is zhat of microbes." He frowned. "Vielleicht ve should be examining you für die Krankheit…a…mental sickness…"

Before he could drag her back into the room, the Engineer stepped in. "What do ya mean, Eit?"

"I don't like the way hospitals smell. My mother…she had…she…uhm, cancer…" She shook her head again, closing her eyes, trying to push away the image of the bony sallow hand hooked up by an IV tube, the dark stubble around the doctor's mouth as his lips moved and spoke words she tried not to hear. "People die in there. The alcohol just hides the scent of death."

The Engineer laid a sympathetic hand on her shoulder, and she blinked. "I'm sorry. I know it's a stupid thing to be scared of. I just…really don't like the way they smell." She shrugged. The Medic was staring at her with a shadow of intrigue hinting at a smile.

"Well, Ah reckon you've had a bit of a rough day, and the physical can probably wait." The Engineer gave the Medic a pointed nod. "Here, why don't yew head on back to yer room, and Ah'll call on ya when supper's ready."

"Alright. I'm really sorry, I just…need to sit for a while and…yeah. I'll be okay." Ceely thanked the Engineer and was slightly relieved to find that the Medic had already swept back into his examining room. The Engineer walked her back to her room and she closed the door behind her firmly, stopping to run her fingers once through her hair before taking off her shoes and flopping down on her bed.

_What have I gotten myself into?_ _The war isn't over…and I'm trapped here with a bunch of…not-friends._ For the most part, everyone she had met here seemed to be part of the system already, with Scout's brash antagonism, to Soldier's insanity, Demo's drinking, Sniper's lewd suggestions. And Medic was an entity she didn't even want to begin contact with. Engineer seemed nice enough, but the part of her that had been trained for independence cursed her with a stab of guilt concerning the fatherly man. To think that she was going to spend God knows how long with these men, and that she would have to depend on them for protection in battle…Was she never going to get older and make use of the rest of her life? Would dying hurt? And it would probably happen often. She was just another pawn now, another body amongst foundations.

The sheer futility of her situation, the feeling of her future being stripped away left her trembling in her naked, terrified core. The bars across the window cast long shadows onto the door. The desert was silent as it cooled under the late afternoon sun. And so the tears began.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The sun was now the afterglow of a kiss on the horizon, fading to a dusty rose orange, with lavender encroaching on the higher edges of the sky. The blare of what sounded like an airhorn nearly jolted Ceely out of her skin. She blinked fast and stood up from the bed, walking over to the mirror and rubbing at her eyes. She looked a sad sight in the small mirror, with red rimmed eyes and her hair tussled from running her hands through it so often. She washed her face and brushed and patted her hair down with her fingers and a bit of water as best as she could, but eventually just settled for tying a red bandana over it all.

A knock sounded at the door, and she straightened her shirt before answering it. To her surprise, it was Medic standing there, with a small white briefcase. "Ahm, hallo Fraulein," he said, smiling awkwardly in an attempt to quell her nervousness. The tall man was stooped slightly as he nodded at her

The Engineer peered around the Medic and offered Ceely a wave. "Howdy, Eit. We were hopin' tuh discuss somethin' with you before dinner."

"Alright, what's going on?"

"Ah know you're a bit uncomfortable with the medical bay, but it's unfortunately imperative that you allow our Medic here to give you a quick physical examination and, uh, certain medications." Ceely felt herself paling, but licked her lips and smiled wanly, struggling to shelve her fear. "And we figgered you'd be less averse to it if you were situated in a familiar place like your room…well, as familiar as a day's difference could make."

She backed up and opened the door wider to let the two men into the room. "Okay, I guess. Thanks for being so considerate of my…problems. I'm working to get over it, and I'll probably be alright with it here in a few days…" The Engineer gave her a warm smile.

"It's understandable. We've all got our personal phobias."

"Fräulein Eit, if you could stand straight up like so, bitte," said the Medic, having unpacked his briefcase next to the small pile of uniforms on Ceely's desk and laid his red rubber gloves down, and pulled out a clipboard and stethoscope. She complied, closing her eyes for a moment until realizing it made her focus on his sterile scent even more. Instead, she followed the precise, impersonal movements of his hands, as he pressed the metal pad to various places on her sternum and back, asking her to breathe deep. "Everything seems in order…Sit, please." She took a seat on her bed, as the Medic used a small lit instrument to inspect her ears and check how well her eyes followed his light.

_This isn't so bad, I guess,_ she found herself thinking. It really was different without depictions of anatomy plastering the walls and rows of mysterious bottles and medical equipment on shelves and countertops, without the scent of medication and the feel of metal and cold paper. The Medic alternately did routine procedures and scribbled on his clipboard with a bored expression as he ticked off checkboxes; Ceely noted he was left handed.

It wasn't until he took the syringe out of the briefcase that she began to worry and looked towards the door. The Engineer had apparently left at some point, and shut the door behind him without her noticing. She felt her heart begin to thud, and swallowed hard as she tried to regulate her breathing. "Um, Medic? Is a shot really necessary?"

He looked away from flicking the syringe. "Yes, of course," he informed her curtly, "this vill help prevent your monthly cycles and hormonal fluctuations, for optimal performance on the battlefield."

Her hands wrung at the bed sheets. "Couldn't they have done this on the train?"

"They were not equipped für Sie, Fräulein. In fact, this is a one-time medication that I have formulated myself," he declared proudly, "and I have been given full authorization to administer it." The Medic held the clear liquid in the syringe up to the light, a slightly maniacal look on his face.

Ceely frowned. "I'm sorry, but I don't really feel comfortable being a guinea pig for your chemicals…"

The man had the nerve to look mildly offended. "I vill have you know that this held up as safe in animal testing, and suited your predecessors just fine. Roll up your sleeve, it vill simply be a prick in the arm." Ceely slowly pulled up the sleeve to her shoulder, and the Medic made an approving noise. "You have excellent musculature, and I have no doubt that you vill recover quickly. The treatment is safe and reversible; I swear this on my medical license."

She sighed once more in concern, and turned away, baring her arm. "Every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way," she murmured.

"Vhat vas that?" the Medic asked, as he swabbed her arm with alcohol and slipped the protective cover off the tip of the syringe.

She closed her eyes. "Nothing, just a saying. It helps me when I get nerv-Ow!" She gritted her teeth and was thankful the Medic held her arm against its reflex jerk away from the invading syringe. "Every-…every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way…" she whispered quickly, feeling the cold liquid pump into her veins.

After what felt like far too long, the needle withdrew, and the Medic taped a small cotton fluff over her arm with a bandage. She kneaded the tense muscles in her arm for a bit, as the Medic packed up his kit. "So that's it?'

He ticked one more box on his clipboard, then packed it and snapped his gloves back on. "Ja. You may feel ein bisschen discomfort after eating, but the nausea should pass in a few days." With that, he gave her a curt nod and strode out the door, white coat billowing after him.

The Engineer poked his head in her doorway. "Ready fer dinner, Eit?" He was smiling, but without his goggles on, she could see the concern in his eyes, and she plastered on a smile, nodding and walking to meet him outside the door. "There ya go, I knew you had it in ya. Now let's go get us some food before it disappears down Stringbean's gob."

They trailed a fair distance behind Medic on the way to the mess hall. Ceely stuck her hands in the pockets of her jeans in an attempt to look nonchalant. The Engineer was flexing his gloved hand unconsciously, tapping against his leg.

They only had a bit farther to go when the Engineer cleared his throat. "So, Tolstoy, huh?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah." She gave a sad smile, staring at the ground as they walked. "My mom was a fan. Russian literature and all. She hid a few books around our house so they wouldn't accuse us of being communists. I found Anna Karenina under our sink one day, when I was really young. She tried reading it to me all the time, it was her favorite, but I never stuck around for more than the first two pages. I'd heard her read those first two lines so many times…It brings back happy memories." She smiled genuinely; the phrase had gotten her through a lot of tense situations. The automatic doors swished open, and the Engineer gave her a comforting pat on the back as they entered the mess hall.

The blur of conversation stilled as they entered. She spared a quick glance at the main table, catching Scout's sneer and the Sniper's wink before walking quickly towards the line for food. Grabbing silverware and a tray, she turned around and immediately bumped into a wall.

The wall turned around and revealed the largest person she had ever seen. The bald man glared down his beaked nose at her, and she fought to level her voice. "Ah, sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you…"

He cocked his head at her and squinted his eyes. "I am Heavy Weapons Guy. Is good to be meeting you." She offered her hand and he shook it between his thumb and forefinger. "And you are new Engineer, da? So tiny, like mouse."

"Um." She wasn't sure how to take this. "Yeah, I'm the new Engineer. You can just call me Eit, though, stands for Engineer In Training."

"Whuohahahahaha!" She flinched a bit as the Russian man roared in laughter, slamming down his tray on the counter and snorting. "Little name for little person! Is good, I like! Eit!" He barked the name, biting down the 't', and turned back towards the dinner line, still chuckling. She gave a shy smile and slid her tray onto the counter as well as the line crawled forwards. Supper looked to be chili and cornbread; she grabbed one of the small remaining pieces and ladled a serving of the soup onto her tray.

The conversation had picked up again by the time she went to look for a seat. Demo was regaling his half of the table with a tale of glory. "-one look at th' sticky between his eyes, and kablooie! Whoo laddies, ya shouldae seen th' BLU, eyes crossed harder'n a trollop's legs at confession!"

Most of the table gave appreciative laughter. "Hey, over here, Eit!" She made her way over, and was chagrined to find that the only available seat was sandwiched between Sniper and a suited man in a balaclava, near the end of the table across from the Engineer. Sitting down and tucking her elbows in, she gave a brief smile and started to eat.

Much to her relief, the Sniper occupied himself with eating as well, though the other man took only small bites of his food, swallowing with disgust. The Engineer passed her a beer, and she chipped off the cap against the table's edge, taking a quick sip for the cool fizz to wash away the spiciness of the chili. She wasn't unaware of the near-silence that once again spread along the table, but she kept eating at a reasonable pace, not quite sure how to break that silence.

Scout pushed back his chair loudly and went for seconds, and the Engineer cleared his throat. Demo took a long swig of his scrumpy and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "So Eit, izzunit? Tell us aboot yeself."

Nine pairs of eyes slanted towards her. "Well," she swallowed and considered her words, "I'm an engineer in training." She took another sip. "And this beer is shit."

The men hooted in laughter. "Ain't that the truth," the Engineer agreed. The man beside her quirked his mouth in amusement and gave up on his meal, lighting a cigarette.

"Bonsoir, mademoiselle. I am zee Spy," he told her, not bothering to look. She held out her hand and he took it disdainfully, raising an eyebrow at her firm handshake and letting go quickly as if she would contaminate him.

The Sniper clapped a hand on her shoulder and she tried vainly to shrug it off. "Don't mind the spook, Eit. He'd prefer to lurk around in the shadows like a cheezed off frog, eh mate?" The Spy merely sniffed and took another drag. "You've met me though, chickie, and we're going to be good chums, roight?"

"_Foutlecamp_," the Spy hissed, picking Sniper's hand off her shoulder before she could react. He blew a stream of cigarette smoke in the Sniper's face, and stood up abruptly, leaning over the Australian. "Control yourself, you filthy bushman. She ees just a child." With a last glare under a furrowed brow, he swept up his tray and strode into the kitchen to deposit his largely uneaten dinner.

The Sniper gave a scoff and muttered something under his breath, and took a bitter swig of his beer. Eit paused, and then finished eating and went to wash off her tray; when she came back, she sat down in Spy's seat instead, picking up her own beer and sipping at it.

A muffled yell came from the end of the table, and she looked up from studying the wood grain. "That's the Pyro," the Engineer told her. "He's the only member of the team you haven't met yet. He's…quite something, that boy." Eit looked down the table and found the person wearing the gas mask and a red flame retardant suit. He was waving cheerily at her, but as they locked eyes (she supposed), his movement suddenly slowed and stopped, and he dropped his hand and simply stared at her. She felt her smile waning by degrees, and tipped her bottle in his direction before sipping as an excuse to break eye contact.

Scout finished his thirds and strolled out of the mess hall; the rest of the men followed suit eventually, and Eit did the same, tossing her empty bottle into the trash can with a clink. But something wasn't quite right with her stomach.

She stumbled into the bathroom, taking deep breaths and swallowing hard, and barely had time to slam the stall open before the nausea swept her dinner back up.

With a groan and another tortured heave, she sat back on her heels, contemplating the porcelain bowl ruefully. And then much to her shock, the urinal outside her stall flushed loudly and she heard the zipping of a fly.

"Uh, you doin' alright in dere, Eit?"

_Shit, I thought I was the only one in here._ "Yeah," she coughed up the last bit of bile and spat wetly into the toilet. "Yeah, I'm alright." She took another deep breath and stood up, flushing and making her way to the sinks to wash her face and get some water.

Scout was sudsing up his hands beside her. "What was dat all about, huh?"

She swished some water around in her mouth and spat. "Some medicine Medic gave me. Side effects of nausea for a bit, but nothing serious."

He turned off the tap and wiped his hands on his pants. "Alright. As long as you aren't sick. We don't need ya holding back the team any more than you already will."

Eit silently jabbed her middle finger at the closed door after he left. _Always something to prove…_

On her way back to her room, the Engineer caught up with her. "Hey, Eit, you've got a call waiting in the war room. Ah'm heading tuh mah workshop, but Ah'd like tuh take you to the shootin' range tomorrow, so you can get some trainin' in 'fore ya head into the real thing on Monday."

"Sure thing. I'll see you tomorrow morning then."

The war room was eerily silent when she entered, but after a moment, the lights flicked on and the gentle whirring of a projector began. She stood awkwardly by the edge of the table as the Administrator's face filled the screen.

"Greetings. This is a prerecorded message. I trust that you have acquainted yourself with your living quarters and colleagues." A cough interrupted her rasping drawl, and she stubbed out her cigarette with a practiced twist before continuing. "These men are the best in the world; they are experienced assassins, while you are a mere girl, and you have much training to cover. Nothing less is expected of you. You must learn quickly, as your life, as well as those of your teammates, is at stake. Our contract will not tolerate failure." The smoke was clearing, and a weary look entered the Administrator's eyes. "I understand your hesitations, but I assure you, the augmentations were for your own safety in this environment. The BLU fighters are ruthless, as you must be as well. RED _must_ achieve victory. Goodnight, and good luck."

The projector gave a few empty whirs and clicked off. After a moment, she left and headed to the rec room, still turning over the Administrator's ominous words in her head.

Demo roared, "Eyy, lass!" as she entered, and a beer was shoved in her hand. She chipped it open against the doorframe and sat down carefully on the couch next to him, allowing the conversation to wash over her. Scout was sprawled across most of the sofa facing the television, scrutinizing the baseball game being broadcasted, occasionally yelling at the grainy players on the screen. On the other side of the room, Heavy, Spy, Soldier, and Pyro were having an animated game of poker, with Pyro's beaming "Hudda!"s resounding as he kept raking in chips, and Soldier's and Heavy's bickering while Spy stole glances at the two men's hands. The room was laced with smoke from Spy's cigarette and Soldier's stogie, and the conversation was underlaid with the clicking chips, the clink of beer bottles, the announcer on the TV.

"Strange…" she whispered, taking another sip of beer.

"Whuzzat?" Demo slurred, blinking out of a stupor.

"Oh, nothing. Just…it's strange, you know? You all seem so normal, I have a hard time remembering that we're all soldiers on a battlefield."

He winked at her. "We're not all soldiers, only that one!" he whispered, pointing at the poker table. "But jokes aside, we dun like tae talk aboot werk mos' days. 'S good tae get it offa yer mind when we have the time on weekends. Ye ken, we're all normal folk, got some damn good skills, but we all hadda life ootside of here, Eit."

She nodded slowly, and before she realized it, her beer bottle was already empty. She swirled around the dregs, confused. "That's weird, I'm usually at least tipsy by this point…"

"Lass, it'll take ya lotta more tae get drunk offa that lot, what with the ways they've fixed us up, those bloody bastards…" he grumbled. "Why do ya think I brew my own Scrumpy, eh? Th' normal stuff's no good tae meh no more…"

He trailed off, expression darkening. Eit frowned, uncomfortable, and stood to leave. "I'll, uh, see you guys around tomorrow, I guess."

The Demo raised a weary hand in acknowledgement, but everybody else only spared her a sidewise glance before returning to their activities. She shrugged and tossed her beer bottle in the trash on her way out.

She walked quickly back to her room, a little bit paranoid about the darkened halls. After brushing her teeth and slipping off her bandana, she stripped down to her tank top and underwear and slipped under the covers. Even in a strange bed, sleep took her easily enough.

The next day began early, and she met the Engineer at the training shed, wearing the red shirt and overalls she had been given. He handed her a toolbelt that was loaded with a wrench, a pistol and a shotgun, as well as some kind of control device. "Here's what you'll be usin' fer the battles."

She belted it around her waist, the weight comfortable on her hips. "So, are you teaching me to, uh, shoot today?"

"Nah, not quite yet. As an Engineer, you've got a more important job than ter shoot people. Come on back." He led her into the training shed and handed her a bright red toolbox from the workbench. She glanced around quickly with an appreciative gaze at the parts and projects that scattered the walls and shelves in the room.

They headed up a set of stairs into what looked like a storeroom. She could hear something rattling in the toolbox, but it was impossibly light, lighter than even an empty toolbox should be.

"Try clippin' it to yer toolbelt. It should lock inta place on yer right leg." She did as he instructed, feeling magnets sewn into the pocket on her upper thigh secure the box. Other than a slight movement restriction, it felt like a simple extra pocket had been attached to the outside of her leg.

"How…?"

"Oh trust me, you ain't seen nothin' yet." He walked her halfway across the empty floor. "Alright, set down the box in fronta ya and take out your construction PDA. That's the bigger one with the dial pad."

"Alright. What am I doing with it?"

"Bring up the main menu, yeah, that big button right there, and press one."

Eit jumped back as the box whirred to life and opened itself. A pair of mechanical legs began popping out, as if out of nowhere, and in front of her eyes, a machine rose from the ground.

"Hit it with your wrench!"

"What?"

"It's just a bit of percussive maintenance, is all. Go on, hit your sentry."

She fumbled for the tool on her belt, and, with hesitation, tapped the machine lightly. It gave a little jolt, as if it was stuck.

"Harder!" She gave it a good whack, and watched it shake out pieces of itself at a faster rate. With a confused look, she experimented with hitting it in different places, but the effect seemed to be the same no matter where she hit. After a while, the sound of contact changed to a resounding "ping" instead of the normal hollow clang, and she stopped.

The machine was a bright red little gun on legs that swept back and forth, making a cute beeping sound. "What in the world just happened?"

"That's a trade secret." The Engineer grinned. "This here's a sentry gun, Level one. As an engineer, your job is tuh protect your base and team by strategically constructin' one of these beauties on the field. If you pick up a bit more metal, I'll show you how tuh upgrade it to shoot faster and better."

He gestured towards a small crate on the sidelines, and she went over to pick it up. This box too was light as air, and attached itself to her belt with a click.

"Actually, scratch that." He handed her the toolbox, which had closed itself after the sentry finished building. "Set this down right about here, take out your PDA again, and press two on the main menu."

"A…dispenser?" she read, as some sort of box began building itself out of her magical toolbox again.

"Durn right. Now go on, give it a good whack, speeds the process up." She hit the box repeatedly, and was surprised to find that by the time she was done, the box of metal she had picked up had completely vanished.

"Wait, how does it do that?"

"Every box has a set amount of metal in it. When it's empty, it'll transport itself back to where it was found, fully recharged. No need for you tuh haul an empty box around with ya."

"Yeah, but the hitting, and the sentry and dispenser just coming out of the box…how is that even possible?"

"It wasn't easy, trust me. Ah had tuh find a good way tuh pack these things fulla transportation technology like the boxes of ammo and metal, and then figger out how tuh make 'em shrink up. They still get a little stuck up in the toolbox, which is why yew gotta give it a good whack tuh make 'em build faster."

"Okay…?" she said, unconvinced. He shrugged.

"The technology here's a bit hard to explain. We just got a shipment of Australium one day, and suddenly everything just kept getting better. But at any rate…" He gestured towards the dispenser that she had built, as it clicked away. "This thing here'll provide you with metal and ammo, as well as healing for you and your teammates."

"You're telling me this box can bring me back to life?"

"Eh, in a matter of speaking. Here, brace yerself." She widened her stance, and before she could ask why, he pulled out a pistol from his toolbelt and shot her twice in the stomach

Eit gave a yelp of surprise and pain. The burn of the bullets stung at her insides, searing in her abdomen. "What the-!" She stumbled backwards, colliding with the dispenser and clinging to it for support. Face twisting in pain, she brought a shaky hand to the entry wounds, with disbelief at the dark blood that stuck to her fingers.

Under her grip, the machine began whirring. A streak of something red was connecting to her through the air, and the pain was already going away. She winced as she felt the bullets drag out of the entry wounds and plink harmlessly to the ground, with her skin knitting up soon after. After about fifteen seconds, she felt good as new, and the machine had stopped whirring. "That…huh. Interesting."

"Sometimes it's just better if Ah show ya how things work, instead of standin' around and tryin' tuh explain." He tipped his hardhat at her with a remorseful smile. "Ah'm not the best with words. But anyways, you've seen how your dispenser can heal ya? It takes a while, but if you give yer machines an upgrade, they'll do their job better and faster."

With the Engineer guiding her, Eit went back and forth between her sentry and dispenser and upgraded them both, jumping back with a disbelieving laugh when she saw the rocket launcher fold up from her level 3 sentry. It beeped merrily as it swept back and forth, looking for nonexistent BLUs.

"So priority on the bat-" She couldn't bring herself to say the word. "So priority when we're fighting is to get one of these up and running?"

"Yup. And make sure your dispenser is built somewhere that yer teammates can get at. Your sentry should go somewhere hard for the enemy to shoot at without also coming into shootin' range, and for the most part, you gotta make sure you stay close, since you never know when a spah's gonna come by with a durn sapper."

"Sapper?"

"Ah'll point it out to ya when you get onto the field tomorrow." He led her back towards a small fort of sandbags. "You've got a detonator there on your belt; it'll allow you to destroy any of your buildings if you need." Suddenly he stopped walking. "Oh! Nearly forgot about yer teleporters! Pull out yer PDA and put down an entrance right here."

The device unfolded out of her toolbox and sat there dumbly on the ground. "How's it work? Do you just …stand on it?"

The Engineer nodded proudly. 'You gotta build an exit though, of course. You got enough metal with ya?"

"Mhm."

"Alright, well, head on back towards those sandbags over there, and put down the exit when you get there."

She walked back, boots clomping with an echo around the warehouse, and opened her toolbox and selected the exit when she stood behind the sandbags. The exit and entrance simultaneously whirred to life, with bright orange sparks. She headed back towards the Engineer to pick up some more metal from her dispense.

As she upgraded her teleporter entrance, he reloaded his pistol. Eit paused for a brief moment and glanced over at him, but he smiled. "Nah, don't worry, Ah'm not gonna shoot you again. Not that it would matter. You'd respawn anyways, and in addition, there's no friendly fire enabled during the actual missions."

She smiled wanly back at him.

"Now, you see how you're upgradin' both the entrance and the exit at the same time? All of your buildings'll need a bit of percussive maintenance as they sustain damage from the BLU team's weapons, so just give 'em a good whack with your wrench. And make sure you always have enough metal with you."

Teleporting was a strange feeling. A moment of unweight, and then Eit was standing twenty feet away on the pads of her teleporter exit. She stepped off, and the Engineer joined her a moment later. "Now, I'm gonna fire up a trainin' protocol, just so you can see what these beauties are capable of." He pressed a button on the central console behind the sandbags, and suddenly a couple of wooden targets sprung up from the floor, painted like BLU mercenaries.

The sentry beeped twice, quickly, and with an efficient spray of bullets, decimated the targets. "Whoo-whee!" the Engineer cheered. "Ain't that somethin'."

"That's really quite incredible." Eit couldn't stop herself from marveling at the efficiency. "It's based on color recognition?"

"That's right. Color and pattern, to some degree. Not a foolproof method, but close enough for science." He sounded proud. "And if you ever need to move one of these, they pack up in a jiffy, and they rebuild wherever you put them down."

He had Eit run through a few more repairs, and had her move the buildings a couple of times to get used to packing up and setting up again. When they took a break for lunch and sat down to eat on the steps of the warehouse, a few rays of hot September sun snuck in between the wooden rafters, catching the dust as it drifted through the air.

"So, you got any hobbies, Eit?" the Engineer asked. "Other than reading, obviously." Eit hesitated, swallowing her bit of sandwich slowly. He gave her a knowing look and a warm smile. "If you don't feel comfortable answering, that's fine too. Ah know the contract says no personal information, but when you're livin' around with the rest of us for this long, you're bound tuh pick up a bit about all of us anyways."

She shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. I'm a fan of reading. I go through books the way some people go through food. Never really had time for much else, otherwise. Books, college, and helping my dad in the shop. That's about what life was for me." She took a sip of cola. "What about you? If you don't mind me asking."

"Nah, Ah don't mind. Ah guess it's mostly tinkerin' 'round the shop for me, comin' up with bigger and better guns. I, uh, I do a bit of noodlin' around on mah guitar, sometimes." He chuckled and lifted his hardhat for a moment, running his gloved hand over his bald head. "Do you do anything musical yerself?"

Eit shook her head. "Never really tried my hand at most of it. My mom used to sing, but my voice was never really out for it. I used to do a bit of sketching, nothing serious. Sometimes I write, but mainly I just read." _The memory of high notes echoing down the hallway to her room in the early morning, her father's shaky tenor joining in, a harmony that disappeared when the treatments started._ She blinked and took another bite of her sandwich.

The Engineer made a small noise of approval and swallowed. "I do quite a bit of writing mahself, though it's limited to notes and sketches in the lab." They laughed quietly. "And I write home to mah family once a month. You get unlimited mail privileges, you know. Just gotta watch what you write, in case it gets censored." He winked at her.

"Does-…" Eit thought carefully. "How's your family getting along?"

The Engineer rubbed his head again with a sad smile. "Well, this job sure pays the bills, so that's no problem. But it's been nearly ten years since I last saw home." He took a long draught of cola. "Mah boy was just learnin' how tuh ride a bike when Ah left…he's close tuh graduatin' from highschool right about now. The missus tells me that he's plenty smart. He'll be an engineer, for sure." He finished up his cola and jammed his hardhat back on. "But shootin' the breeze with wishes ain't gonna do me no good out here. Y'all are mah family right now, at any rate." He grinned at her and stood up, brushing some dust off of his overalls. "How's a little bit of practice with your new guns sound?"

Eit polished off the rest of her sandwich and crushed her empty soda can. "Sounds good. Let's go."


End file.
